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many sales pitches Alan gave up on it and turned his
attention once again to flying. He’d given it a good shot, and
was not left embittered. A device ahead of its time, we called it.
    Ahead of its time, that is, until a year or so later when chronology
aligned with Alan’s mad science and four impeccably dressed
Japanese businessmen showed up at his home. They were from a certain
entertainment company, they explained, and wished to engage in
discussions about his tennis racquet invention. Those conversations
led to two of his patents ending up in the Wii videogame system, and
a whole bunch of money ending up in the Massies’ bank account
in the form of licensing fees and continuing royalties.
    The money didn’t change them. Al kept flying planes, and Kris
kept on with her dental practice. They stayed the same, but it was an
awfully nice score for both of them.

    On the way back to Alan’s place, with a quiver of ten-foot
posts sticking out from the back of my truck, I get a text from
Lauren. The shelves look fantastic, she writes, and she wishes I
could have stayed all night.
    “That from Lauren?” Alan asks, peering over at the phone
in my hand.
    “Yep.” I’m angling the screen away from him, but
what’s the point? He knows.
    “Things are going well with her. You guys were screwing
yesterday.”
    “Alan.”
    “I could tell. I mean, her car was there, you were over there,
it’s pretty obvious what—”
    “Enough. Enough .”
    “And the look on your face after. Even with the lip. Which
looks much better today, I should add. But man, Carol’s house?
Ballsy, Neil. Ballsy move.”
    “Okay. Yes. Okay. Ballsy. Whatever. It was stupid. Stupid,
stupid. I know we can’t…I told her we can’t—”
    “Neil.”
    “What?”
    “Stop.”
    “I’m just telling you.”
    “No, I mean stop the car. Right now. Pull over. Right here.”
    I pull off to the side of the road and put the truck in park, and
Alan turns and grabs me by the shoulder. “Will you listen to
yourself?” he says, shaking me. “Listen to yourself.
You’re a grown man, and you’re talking like a kid. You
need to just suck it up, and get it out there. And Christopher—”
    “God, Christopher.”
    “He’s going to take it just fine.”
    “You say that.”
    “He’s a smart kid,” Alan says. “The smartest
kid I know. Solid. After everything, solid. He’s going to take
it just fine.”
    “But Wendy, the way he feels about her…”
    Alan crosses his arms and stares forward. “It’s an
admirable thing you’re doing. Maybe. But maybe it’s
stupid too. And maybe it’s unfair. Unfair to yourself, and
unfair to Chris. Maybe you’re not giving him enough credit.”
    “Hey, hold on a second. That’s not—”
    “I said maybe. Maybe. This is just my opinion, Neil. I don’t
like you beating yourself up. I don’t like seeing it. Maybe get
it out there.”
    “ Maybe I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
    “Fair enough,” Alan says, and I put the truck into gear
to bring us back up onto the highway. I don’t look over at him
for a while as we drive, because I know he’s right. I don’t
say anything either, but it isn’t long before Alan starts up
again.
    “Besides,” he goes on, “I’d say you have a
pretty good thing going. I mean, look, here we have an older guy, a
very decent guy, he likes a younger woman—”
    “I’m only five years older. Well, six—”
    “Like I’m saying. And she reciprocates the feeling.”
    “It’s not that big a difference.”
    “They like each other, these two. A good thing. Capital G,
capital T. Good thing.”
    “It is a good thing.”
    “A genuine affection. These two are truly fond of each
other.”
    “We are,” I say.
    “You and I have been friends for a long time, Neil. It makes me
happy to see you this way. It makes Kris happy. We’re all
having dinner tonight, the four of us, like we do, and you have no
idea how much we are looking forward to it. We look forward to